Remaining in the memories of others
But without regret
For not reminding nothing more than anybody.
The kaleidoscope positioned a little behind
The brute violence with deviated expressions
Mature innocence and pure poison
Like sand grains in a hot beach
In a time where shortcoming found its end.
The insolent explanation that with hard chords
Holds the veil that intended to draw
Or the relaxed face in its obesity
And aged for the briefness of the spring
On which responsible eyes don’t look any more
Coming and leaving from the warm breeze
Marking the speed points
Creating their curves in the space
To go out from the always foreseen plane
And allowing the return to the space of other affections.
Then, as if were a romantic perspiration in the skin
That was the candle flame at midnight
That could persist in a postponed book
And the contained bubble depending on the lips.
Not being able to return as all is the end
Because whatever the way can be
It disentangles, supreme, from the walker
Plenty of scarcities that for the first time
He feels strong in front of nothing.
The plot and its actor
Expressing through the trembling and bleeding mouth
When it tries to pronounce the name
That in his dreams can move him.
And the dream broken in pieces
That will desperate his situation
Finding the blessed image
Of the dark man until then not thought
Who was leaning to see what can be done.